WAYNE GRAVEL & HIS MAGIC CEMENT MIXER

cement mixer

“Excuse me squire but I take it that this is the builder’s merchants what sells cement mixers for our old one is knackered beyond repair?”

“Certainly is mate. What kind do you want?”

“Fucked if I know if the truth be told – the boss just said go and get a new one and have them put it on the account.”

“Well when purchasing a device that homogeneously combines cement, aggregate such as sand or gravel, and water to form concrete it is always advisable to make sure you end up with the one that is right for you. I mean in these days of short mixing times of ready-mix concrete one cannot be too careful.”

“What do you recommend then?”

“Um…..I mean you could have a twin-shaft or maybe a vertical axis although being as you are in the construction game I’m thinking a drum mixer probably fits the bill.”

“I’ll have one of those then.”

“Ah…..what did you say your name was?”

“Didn’t but it’s Wayne; Wayne Gravel.”

“I’m known as Nobby.”

“Right then Wayne we have a vast range of drum mixers. From basic right through to those that come equipped with wheels and a towing tongue and, of course, the magic cement mixer.”

“Did you say ‘magic’ Nobby?”

“Certainly did Wayne. A very rare item indeed for it doesn’t just mix cement it conjures up anything does this mixer supremo – and I mean ‘anything’ as in anything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“Crikey that sounds handy I’ll have one of those then.”

“Brilliant, ‘sold to the man with the beer belly’ – I’ll have the boys load it up for you.”

“Cheers squire.”

BACK ON THE BUILDING SITE WAYNE UNLOADS THE CEMENT MIXER; OPENS UP THE PACKED LUNCH HIS OLD MUM MADE HIM; SITS ON A TREE STUMP AND HAS A THINK AND HE IS STRUCK BY A MAJOR THOUGHT

“Well Magic Cement Mixer me mum has gone and forgotten me flask so I’ve nothing to wash down me Spam and Branston pickle sandwich with. If you’re fucking magic then conjure me a cup of cha.”

“Coming right up guvnor – there job done.”

“Well I’ll be buggered…….a speaking magic cement mixer and within the confines of the drum a cup of cha so strong you could stand a spoon in it and sugared to perfection……and bonus of all bonuses it’s in a chipped enamel mug.”

“Your wish is my command Wayne……anything you want just give us the nod.”

“I might just take you up on that Magic Cement Mixer……I’m thinking here that I’d quite like a new hard hat given that mine is cracked and the Health & Safety would have my guts for garters should they pay me a visit.”

“Well we can’t have you taking any risks can we. Herewith the Rolls Royce of all hard hats serving to protect your head from injury due to falling objects, impact with other objects, debris, rain, and electric shock.”

“Fuck me sideways I’ve never seen the like – the hard hat of my dreams and in the classic yellow, that cocktail of ripe lemons and sun I’ve always wanted yet never could afford. Cheers for that Magic Cement Mixer.”

“Anything else you need Wayne?”

“Well Magic Cement Mixer I’ve always….ever since my apprenticeship really……hankered after a top of the range Marshalltown Permashape finishing trowel. If I had one of those I’d be the envy of labourers far and wide.”

“Come see……your trowel with, I might add, a ‘worn-in’ blade for immediate optimum usability.”

“Cor thanks very much Magic Cement Mixer – life doesn’t get much better than this.”

“Is that all for now Wayne only I’m getting a tad cream-crackered and could do with shutting down for a while?”

“There is one last thing you could conjure up Magic Cement Mixer namely a new labourer to assist me with my onsite duties, you know a bit of hod carrying here; shovelling there. One what is fit as well unlike the useless old toe rags the boss sends me. On a hot day with their shirts off it’s like being looking at the gorilla pen at Whipsnade.”

“You say you want a ‘fit’ labourer that looks the business without a shirt on on a hot day Wayne?”

“Too true I do Magic Cement Mixer.”

“Well you’ll probably have to help her out of my drum but I do believe this fulfils your requirements to the letter.”

“Her?……….surely to God you understand that a building site is no place for a woman especially so a lovely girl like this one…..I’m Wayne by the way luv…..Blige she’d suffer constant wolf whistles and be the butt of endless remarks of sexual innuendo. No this will never do Magic Cement Mixer.”

“Bollocks you never said Wayne. I mean I’m more than happy to magic you a bloke but I can’t take her back you know and for what it may be worth she is an expert on the history of black epoxy coated 85 litre wheelbarrows.”

“What did you just say?”

“The history of black epoxy coated 85 litre wheelbarrows.”

“How did you know that that is my favourite subject……I mean just when I thought things couldn’t get any better I am delivered up a gorgeous bird who majors in black epoxy coated 85 litre wheelbarrows. You’ve got the gig luv……….oh cheers luv I’ll call you Mandy then….and Mandy give me your thoughts if you would on the 1978 model for I was never convinced the Wickes’ version for that particular year stood up to scrutiny……………..”

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12 thoughts on “WAYNE GRAVEL & HIS MAGIC CEMENT MIXER

  1. Where do you come up with stuff like this? It’s like Aladdin, covered in curry and vinegar, served with chips…okay, that’s not a pretty image and certainly not one that does justice to this delightful tale of a magic cement mixer. It reminds me of Roald Dahl’s absurdity for some reason, something I grew up with and absolutely admire!

    1. Evolved from a few glasses of red wine on an evening when I was getting fed up with blogging the same old characters (not that I dislike them). My dad was a builder and as a kid his cement mixer fascinated me. By the way on the odd occasion Shirley eats chips it is always with curry sauce!

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